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MY PARTS by Krista Katrovas

This poem came on the eve of Thanksgiving while contemplating on all the parts we often struggle with…

Those parts that we have a hard time hearing, knowing, and being with, around this time of year when it's often difficult to hear our own voices.

 It also came out of that space, and time, when we think more intensely about those we no longer have (physically) in our lives.

 This poem is a tribute to all those parts that make us whole and offer us opportunity for growth and further reason to give thanks for all that we are. 
Pictured is the author Krista Katrovas

My Parts

Sometimes I wonder,
even while teaching yoga,
if I’m having a heart attack
because my heart swells
with remembrance of those I’ve loved
then lost in physical form
or in some other way
and I’m in awe
of how they continue
to visit me.

Sometimes in downward facing dog
I can hear something they’ve said,
like, “I’ll be here with you forever,”
or, “No one, or nothing,
can keep me from loving you,”
then realize the memory of their words
is all that’s left of them.
Change is truly
the only constant
we can count on.

Sometimes in child’s pose,
when my forehead presses gently
into the mat,
I can feel the beginning again
before my heart got so big,
before my muscles filled with memory
with memory different
from the ones I carried
with me through birth
left behind from my ancestors.
Those days in child’s pose
are often the days
I hurt the most.

Sometimes in tree,
I balance between worlds,
between my manager self,
holding it all together,
my critic self, one that never let’s me
give anything but my best.
My child self only wants
to jump on the bed
eat cotton candy
ride my skates along the boardwalk
watching the waves kiss the shoreline
before returning again into the deep.
I also look at my adult child
and remember to go swinging,
so what if I’m in my forties,
my toes can still touch the clouds.

Sometimes I lie in final resting pose
savasana, as corpse, deadened
from awareness of body,
breath, mind,
connect to my divine self,
to my Goddess Self,
and find peace with all my parts,
with all the heart aches, let down’s,
and rest, rest, rest in peace
knowing my magical mat
will be here tomorrow,
the day after next,
to take me on this journey
deep into my parts,
where things hurt,
where things have fallen apart,
where memories surface,
come crashing again
like ravishing waves
seemingly able to make me drown.

But my breath and movement
offer me time
to acknowledge
the courage its takes to fall,
to scuff my knees, and learn
from the fall.

I have loved,
loved so much
it’s enough
to make my heart swell
again and again
for every person
on this planet
including those
that have broken my heart
and that its OK
because it's healing me
and good for them

and me.
~


Krista Katrovas (E-RYT) has dedicated herself to the practice, study and teaching of yoga since discovering it in 1999 after dancing rigorously as a dance major in college. Krista has had scores of articles on Yoga, Wellness, and Spirituality published in nationally regulated magazines. She has a regular column at Elephant Journal here. She has taught Yoga in Prague every July since 2009 and has been sought to teach in Kuwait, Canada, Virginia, California, Kentucky, and Florida. She calls Kalamazoo, Michigan home, where she teaches Yoga, Meditation, offers Spiritual guidance, and practices Shamanism. She has cats, though also loves dogs, all animals. Her power animal is the Snowy Owl. Visit her yoga website here.


~If you are interested in seeing your poetry appear in this blog, or submitting a poem by a woman that has inspired you, please click here for submission guidelines. I greatly look forward to hearing from you!~  

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